Ryan Cahill parked his Audi and walked along the tree-lined Washington boulevard where he lived at number 24b. The night was moonless, but warm for the time of year. A couple walked past him as he looked up at the myriad stars. When he looked back a man in a black leather jacket was pointing a handgun at him.
“You Ryan Cahill?” he growled.
“Now look, if you want my wallet, here it is,” said Ryan pulling out his wallet.
“Aw, what the hell!” said the assailant as he fired two shots killing Ryan, who’s body crashed back onto the sidewalk.
The killer grabbed the wallet and ran along the street before disappearing into the shadows.
“Hey stop!” shouted the man from the couple who had passed earlier, as he ran back to where Ryan lay.
Tom Baumann sat back in his chair and put his arms behind his head as Pantera’s 'Cowboys from Hell' filled his lounge. Unfortunately, the front door bell disturbed his relaxation.
“Yes, what is it?” He asked over the building security system.
“It’s me. Open up–the jobs done,” said a voice.
Baumann pressed a button after checking the street monitor.
“Ten grand we agreed on,” said the man entering the apartment.
“Yes, come in,” said a grinning Baumann as he followed the man through to the lounge.
“You see, I don’t have ten thousand on me I’m afraid. Even if I did, I would give you fuck-all!”
“I thought this might happen!” said the thug who pulled out the handgun and pointed it at Baumann.
“Oh, come on now,” said Baumann with open arms as the gun swung round and pushed its way into the killer’s mouth.
The man moaned with wide, frightened eyes.
“You see, I’ve found out who I am, and I’m indestructible. You, my friend, are not,” said Baumann as the thug pulled the trigger blowing off the back of his head, splattering the wall behind with blood, pieces of brain tissue and skull.
The body seemed to hover for a moment as if doubting that it had been killed before slumping onto the floor.
“Oh shit! I’ll need to clean all this up,” said Baumann staring at the blood. “Oh well, where’s the paint roller,” he continued as he walked over the body of the killer.
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Chapter Twenty-Two Tom Baumann sat upright at the bar of Kings Nightclub in central Washington and pulled out his cell phone. Then, pressing in a number, he sat back and took a slug from his bottle of beer as he put the phone up to his right ear.
“Yes, hello,” said the voice of Ernest Illingworth, the financier, after several moments.
“Ernest, it’s Tom Baumann,” said Baumann taking another slug from his bottle.
“Tom, it’s good to hear from you. Sorry to hear about your partner–Ryan. Shot and killed for his wallet! What is happening to this country?”
“Listen Ernest, this isn’t a social call. I’m putting the price of the development up from 2 million to 10 million.”
There was a pause, and then Illingworth said: “What? Have you gone mad! I know Ryan’s death must have affected you, but this is crazy!”
“I’m in sound mind, and that’s the new price.”
“Oh, come now Tom, I’m not going to pay that!”
“Oh, come now Ernest, think of your family,” said Baumann while watching some women dancing.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Baumann signalled for one dancer to join him. “Well, take your daughter Katie for example, she’s a nice girl. Oh, here she is!”
“Who is it?” asked the blond girl dressed in skin-tight black leather trousers and a white blouse.
“It’s your father.”
“Eh?” said the girl as she gulped down what was left of her cocktail and took the phone from Baumann. “Hi pops!”
“Katie, you be careful.”
“Oh dad, I’m with my friends.”
“How do you know Tom Baumann?”
“I met him at the reception party for the new development. I am a PA in your office–remember?”
“Yes well, don’t stay out too late.”
“I won’t.” she said, sighing as she handed the phone back to Baumann and accepting another cocktail from one of her friends.
“Now listen Baumann, I don’t want a hair on her head hurt. You understand?”
“I understand nothing until you agree to the new price.”
“Okay, I’ll put it to the board tomorrow.” Illingworth said with a sigh.
“Atta boy Ernie! And make it sound compelling–eh!”
“You leave my daughter alone!”
“Sure! I’m goin’ home. I’ll be in touch,” said a grinning Baumann.
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Chapter Twenty-Three Matthew was awoken by shouting and screaming. He sat up and watched as David wrestled with his duvet in the next bed.
“David! Wake up!” He shouted as he switched on the above-bed light.
David sat up and rubbed his face. “Sorry about that Mattie,” he said climbing out of his bed and pulling on his house coat. He then walked over to the sink area and switched on the kettle. “The Seals are being opened, or, at least someone has tried,” he said casually as he held up the instant coffee jar to Matthew.
“What?” shouted Matthew jumping out of his bed.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“No… I mean yes, but… the Seals!”
“I’ve seen what we would call The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse pass from a dimension into this dimension. Not pass into the physical, but into human and demon consciousness.”
“Yes, I felt something had happened.” Matthew said accepting a steaming mug from David.
“What can we do?”
“Nothing. The main period of the Book of Revelation has begun!”
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Chapter Twenty-Four A light rain had begun as Thomas Baumann opened his front door and picked up his mail. Suddenly four burly men in suits pushed him into his hallway and slammed the door shut.
“We’ve come to talk to you about being greedy,” said one man, who had a scar across one of his cheeks.
“I thought this would happen,” said Baumann as he snapped on the light. “I don’t want to talk; I’d rather that you danced like ballerinas,” he continued.
The men burst out laughing as they approached Baumann and then twirled on their toes and did little jumps.
“Now stop, and heads up to the ceiling,” growled Baumann.
The four men froze and tilted their heads up to the ceiling.
“You poor fools do not understand who I am,” said Baumann as he walked around the statuesque thugs.
The men looked at him with terrified eyes; the eyeballs being the only thing they could move.
“Right come on, I want blood!” Baumann shouted as the men opened their mouths and spurted out blood.
“Right, now for your boss,” said Baumann as he walked through the kitchen and then slipped out the back door.
He jumped over the brick backyard wall and landed silently behind a black sedan. Opening the nearside rear door, he slipped in.
“Hello Ernie,” he said to the figure behind the steering wheel.
“What…?” uttered Illingworth.
“Oh, I see, you’re surprised to see me. You were expecting them to beat me and drag me before you.”
“Now listen Tom.”
“No, you listen,” growled Baumann in an otherworldly voice. “You will find your thugs in my hall–quite dead. Not that I’m letting you go.”
Illingworth’s hands clamped onto the steering wheel and the car shot off on its own. After turning the corner, they screamed along the street at the front of the building. They shot through a red light before screeching round a corner heading toward the city.
“What is it you want Tom?” screamed Illingworth.
“All I wanted was my money, Ernie.”
“Okay, okay I’ll give you your money,” said Illingworth as police sirens filled the night behind them.
Illingworth, finding himself back in charge of the vehicle, pulled into the side of the street and was surrounded by police cars.
“Step out of the vehicle, sir!” said the officer pointing a torch into Illingworth’s face
“It was him officer, he made me do it!” Illingworth shouted pointing to the rear seat.
The policeman pointed his torch beam into the rear of the car, but there was no one there.
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Chapter Twenty-Five Matthew rose off his bed and strolled over to the window and gazed out at the parking lot. “We got to find Joshua!”
“I've tried to find him mentally, but Grondin has put a block around him.”
There was a sharp rap on the door as David rolled off his bed and headed into the shower-room.
Matthew opened the door to find Michael Manzi. “Father! We wondered what happened to you?”
he said stepping back to allow the priest in.
Matthew noticed the man looked dishevelled and now walked with a limp as he passed by.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Matthew asked as he closed the door.
“Nah!” said Manzi.
“Father!” said David as he appeared from the shower room. “Any news on the whereabouts of Joshua Collins?”
“Nah!”
David looked at Matthew and knitted his eyebrows. “We believe an elite group headed by a dark entity is holding our man.”
“Then he is beyond reach and we should leave it alone.”
Matthew turned his head round from making coffee. “Leave it alone!”
“And, why is that Monsignor?” David asked holding a hand up to Matthew.
“I have told my contact in the Vatican City of the happenings, and I was ordered to stop the investigation. I have to ask you two gentlemen to respect the situation and return to where you came from.”
“And if we don't?” Matthew asked.
A flicker of red passed over the priest's eyes. “Well then...”
“Please father, sit down while I have a word with Matthew,” said David in a calming voice. He then signalled Matthew to follow him outside.
“That's not Michael Manzi,” said David gazing at the clear sky then focusing on Matthew.
“No, something's happened to him!”
“The body... it's dead. He's been killed then possessed.”
“What... like a zombie?”
“Yes.
There was a loud crash as Manzi walked through the door. “I can hear all you say in my mind.
Now, as you don't believe me, I will have to destroy you!”
David grabbed Matthew, and they flew backwards over the parking lot. They landed on top of a small grassy banking. Manzi roared revealing large pointed teeth. His eyes shone bright red as he scrambled over cars toward the pair.
David leapt over the zombie and landed behind him. “Didn't anyone tell you it's not polite to take someone else's body, “he quipped as he grabbed the head and broke the neck.
He left the body lying on the parking lot and walked toward Matthew. “Well, let's get on with finding Joshua and the Book.”
“Eh... David, you'd better look behind you!”
David turned around to see Manzi walking toward him with the head resting on a shoulder.
“Michael,” called a voice from the side of the lot.
A man in a black suit with a dog collar and a brown homburg, stood beside a grey van.
Manzi turned around in the direction of the voice with the head still on his shoulder.
“Michael, it's Cardinal Canale.”
The zombie was about to walk toward the cardinal when he snarled and turned toward David.
“Michael, come to me,” commanded Canale.
Manzi stopped for a moment and then turned around and limped toward Canale.
“What has happened to you?” Canale asked with tears in his eyes.
“It's not Michael,” David said to the cardinal as he approached.
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“What are you doing here?” Manzi growled.
“Michael, I'm here to take you home.”
The cardinal grabbed his metal crucifix which hung around his neck and began the exorcism.
Manzi's eyes shone bright red and his head swung round off the shoulder as he emitted an ear-piercing scream. He then went quiet and dropped onto the tarmac. Canale signalled to the van, and two men dressed in protective suits appeared and lifted the body into the back of the vehicle.
Canale turned to David and Matthew. “American Police alerted us that Michael had been killed in a road accident in the centre of Washington. I came to collect the body and sort out any remaining details. But as you saw someone or something beat me.”
“Yes, I'm afraid it's a sign of the dark times we're in.” David said.
“Now gentlemen, I must go. God bless you in your search. Yes, I have been informed all about you by the authorities! Here is my contact details should you require any help from the Vatican,”
said Canale handing David a white card.
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